The Sky at Dusk
by BelieveItOrNot
Summary: The journey of star-aligned lovers into foreverness; a vampire boy & a human girl destined for each other, the characters who either get in their way or help them along, and an author who interrupts too much and can't always control her own characters. AU
1. In Which The Staraligned Lovers Meet

**Stephenie Meyers owns Twilight; I'm just poking fun at her characters.**

This is a parody, written for fun, and not to be taken seriously. :)

I suppose it might be Twilight on crack. Hope you enjoy...

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**The Sky at Dusk**

**Chapter 1: In Which the Star-aligned Lovers Meet**

Just because the stars in the sky can't be seen during the day doesn't mean they're not there, watching. Today, at high-noon, they're out and in alignment for our lovers. They watch the couple's journey into foreverness just as we do.

The powder-white clouds have staked their claim over the small and mystic town of Forks where the mist blows in and out and back in with the wind, setting a scene through a densely-treed forest that is either eerie or romantic, depending on who you're looking at.

There are secrets in this town that no one's ever heard of. The kind of secrets about love that will make Forks the most well-known and written about small town in America. Great-great grandparents will tell the tales of Forks to their great-great grandchildren, who will continue the tradition on and on through time, and as each tale is told, it will be like nobody's ever shared a similar story before.

Our secret begins with a girl and a boy who are meeting for the first time.

One is slight and plain and clumsy, while the other is tall and gorgeous and sure-footed. Upon their first look at each other across the crowded high school cafeteria, they make fast assumptions and hate each other, but for different reasons. The boy hates the girl because suddenly her scent brings out a side to him that desires nothing more than to inexplicably kill her. The girl hates the boy because he's looking at her with hate. But as they move closer and closer to one another, each one realizes the other holds a depth that was unnoticed before. The boy has a handsomeness never to be paralleled, and the girl has thoughts that hide from him - he must know what they are; nothing will stop him from figuring out her mind. Little does he know, her thoughts are all about him - every one. If she were to tell him this, he wouldn't believe her. He knows there is a never-to-be-revealed mystery about her because he can't read her mind.

They move closer, their feet carrying them slowly and carefully as if they're crossing the very clouds that linger over their town, and they might fall through.

She gives her bottom lip a bite. This is what she does when she gets nervous. Sometimes the lip-bite is accompanied with a blush that could put the beauty of pink roses to shame. Still, she knows she's plain.

On his next inhale, the boy decides that they're too close and runs away to protect her from himself. When he runs, he doesn't just run, he disappears. With toes pointed toward each other, the girl stands there feeling rejected, her head down, her lips trembling. Somewhere a red balloon is floating away on a breeze.

"He was the one," she says, but she isn't sure if she said it out loud or if she just thought it.

Several other boys who she can't tell apart seem to come from nowhere, surround her and try to cheer her up. They shout their names at her, but they're such common names that they aren't worth mentioning. These nameless boys give her more attention than she's ever received before. Girls are looking at her with envy in their hearts. But these boys circling her are not the boy she wants. This depresses her even more.

The handsome boy who ran away has vague brothers and sisters. They are not all biologically related, but they all happen to be out-of-this-world beautiful and carry the same recessive golden-eye gene. And while biology is a much fussed about subject in this town, nobody questions this phenomenon. (By the way, this might be the only time biology comes up in this story, and while it's true that it is a subject rather fussed about in Forks, if you're turning these pages to learn anything about science, you're reading the wrong story.)

Our plain girl shares vague glances and vague conversations with these brothers and sisters. It isn't important to know exactly what is spoken between them; the only important thing to know is that every conversation they share points to our handsome boy. There is one sister among them, though, who looks as though the Barbie doll might have been modeled after her - and later, the plain girl will realize that this is a real possible truth, as the beautiful girl is actually much older than the Barbie doll.

The beautiful blonde has hatred in her eyes, but only when she looks at the plain girl.

It isn't important to know the reason behind the blonde sister's glare, only that there_ is_ a reason. The rest of her brothers and her sister love her and fawn over her, and her burly boyfriend can't stop kissing her, so she probably isn't that bad. She might be in this story just to make everyone jealous and serve as a reasonable reason to hate beautiful people, or blondes. We'll let her go for now, but she might be back. That depends on if she has anything to offer our main couple. If she does, it will probably be drama. Isn't that what the most beautiful of all the beauties thrive off of?

Our plain girl, who doesn't really care about beauty at all, has recently confused beauty with perfection. But since she doesn't really care about beauty, she doesn't bother correcting her mistake.

It's several days before the handsome boy and the plain girl meet again. He surprises her as she stands in the cafeteria lunch line.

"I've wanted to kill you since the first moment I laid nose on you."

His voice is like satin against her skin; his scent is like jasmine and honey and warm baked cookies on a cold winter's day; his eyes are like gold pieces and hold the same riches, she's sure. He looks so pale and almost purple (which is one of her favorite colors) and pure, except that he's frowning, which brings a certain danger to his face that she wonders if she should think about. She does think about it, and it turns her on.

"You're so sexy-dangerous."

He smirks at her to prove she's right.

"And you're way too handsome to be bad. I bet you would only protect me like some guardian angel rather than kill me. And if you did happen to kill me, I know it would be an accident and you'd feel really badly about it." She smiles.

He loves her smile. He could plant a garden in her smile, sow it, tend to it, give it the sun, and pluck from it the most beautiful blooms ever before to grace the earth, and bring the petals to his nose, breathe in their scent until his smile matches hers, and others would grow gardens in his.

"We were made for each other," he says.

She gushes and sighs and plays with the ends of her hair - which shines like sun on steel, but is plain and straight and brown and falls to her waist.

"Maybe you should eat."

She's relieved that he's reminded her.

He fills up her lunch tray and they make their way through a crowd that might be there, but might not; this depends on if anyone has anything to say to them that would either cause them sheer pleasure, or the deepest deepness of despair.

Just so the author doesn't have to flesh out any more characters, she's going to give our couple a bubble to live in. Whenever they're together, it's only the two of them in their bubble. (That is unless someone outside the bubble has to move the plot along, but don't worry, nobody will interrupt our couple for long. There are several pockets in this story for each minor character to hide in until they're necessary. These pockets hold craft services that offer sandwiches, fizzy red drinks, gourmet desserts, and chess games, so the characters are always comfortable and entertained while they wait for their cue from the author.)

"Aren't you going to eat?" the girl asks the boy, sitting close enough to touch him, but not quite touching him. Their legs are so close, she notices. He notices how close they are, too, and he has to fight himself from either killing her or making love to her right there in the cafeteria. Keeping his hands and his teeth off of her is so hard he almost shakes. But because he's a vampire, he doesn't shake. Vampires are very still creatures, even if their insides are messy and ravenous for sex and murder.

"I don't eat."

She shrugs. He must be on a diet, even though it really doesn't appear necessary because his skin stretches so perfectly over his lean muscles that she wants to run her tongue along every crevice of his body. This thought makes her blush, which makes the beautiful boy next to her salivate.

"You're killing me," he says, and it sounds like he's holding his breath. Probably because it's so difficult to breathe around her naturally-plain-but-in-every-way-beautiful-to-him beauty.

He would agree. He notices no other girls now that she's come into his existence. It is this moment when he realizes that he will never kill her. How did she look so deep down into the deepest depths of a soul he's sure he doesn't even possess in order to know this about him, before he knew it himself?

"We're made for each other," he says again.

She smiles her smile and blushes her blush and sparkles her brown-eyed sparkle. She doesn't bite her lip, though - there are only so many adorable things she can do at once. She is human, after all.

He watches her eyes sparkle and thinks, _I have sparkle, too_. But perhaps it's too soon to reveal that.

"I don't think you're human. You're way too good looking and perfect," she says, biting into her apple, while confusing beauty with perfection once again. The crunching sound reminds the boy of the sound skin makes when he sinks his teeth into it. There is a sliver of guilt that snakes up his spine as he recalls the murders he's committed over the years of his monsterly existence. It isn't his fault, it's his vampyric nature. He broods for several moments, anyway.

She'll understand, he thinks.

Just about everyone he's ever killed has been bad, and deserving of it. He knows because he read it in their minds and nobody ever has a fleeting thought that is false or might change, unless it's necessary for his clairvoyant sister, Alice, to be fuzzy in foretelling the future. This may come up later, but we don't have need for it just yet. It might help to know now, though, that Alice has short spiked-out hair that could only possibly be cute on her, she's perky just like her nose, and she dances when she walks.

Our handsome boy remembers the one exception that proved the flaw in his telepathic abilities… There was this person he bit into who was reminiscing about the most horrible murders committed - the kind where body parts are cut up while the victim is alive and screaming. It wasn't until the last thought left the murderer's mind with the last beat of his heart,_ Now I'll never finish my book about serial killers_, that the telepathic vampire realized his mistake.

_I couldn't have known_, the vampire with an ache in his nonexistent heart told himself then, his burgundy eyes glowering, the limp, dead body falling from his hands. After he screamed and thrashed and curled up into a fetal position all in the name of grief, he went back to his animal-blood-drinking family, where Carlisle, the vampire with a metaphorical heart that's bigger than most humans', was waiting for him with welcoming arms.

_I couldn't have known_, he tells himself now, his golden eyes glowering._ And I did go back to Carlisle._

She'll understand.

With his lips pressed together, the handsome boy grins. "I'd like to hear more of your theories." Who doesn't like to hear others speaking wonderful things about him? There are many human characteristics that vampires don't possess, but an ego in need of stroking isn't one of them.

"I think you're some kind of god."

He shakes his head and frowns. It is a wonderful thing to hear, but simultaneously painful because he knows it isn't true. "I'm afraid I might be the bad guy." He despises this about himself, and frowns so hard his eyebrows are in danger of falling off.

A lengthy brooding is about to take place, but she interrupts him with a giggle that sounds like strumming harps from the Heavens.

His eyes meet hers.

She brings her hand to his face. Her fingers are warm and sticky with the apple's juices, but he barely gets the chance to feel anything with the way she yanks her hand back almost immediately. "So cold." It's said in a whisper and followed with a bottom-lip bite.

"Don't be afraid." He holds the partially eaten apple up to her mouth.

"Okay." She takes a bite, all the while looking into his eyes. They're turning black.

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More to come. :)

This is looking to be about 6 chapters, all shortish in length. It's completed, for the most part, and will update quickly.


	2. In Which They Discuss Vegetation

Hi, this is a parody, not meant to be taken seriously.

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**The Sky at Dusk**

**Chapter 2: In Which They Discuss Vegetation**

An afternoon stroll is being taken through the moss-draped forest. Crickets are chirping, birds are tweeting, and insects are scattering. The boy pushes aside the leaves of a fern that are almost larger than the girl so she can step through.

As they continue on among the colossal trees, the boy and girl decide to exchange important details about one another. In a voice of velour, the boy tells her that his father is a doctor and has the perfect job because he only has to work when girls get rescued from being crushed by runaway vans.

In a voice of polyester, the girl tells him that her dad, the police chief, has the perfect job because it doesn't allow him to hover. He only comes home to have a beer once in a while, and maybe watch a ballgame. This gives her the chance to say her dad is the all-American dad. She tells the boy that if she ever had a boyfriend who wanted to sleep over all the time her dad would never find out because if he does happen to be home, he'll be asleep and nothing wakes him up at all until morning - even if he was hit over the head with a huge boulder he wouldn't wake up - and she's convinced that when he wakes up in the morning, he's already at work.

"Some people fall asleep on the job. Charlie wakes up on it."

"Why do you call your dad Charlie?"

"Why do you call yours Carlisle?"

Neither question gets answered because the intense and pressing issue of favorite colors comes up. The girl is unsure which one of them brought up this subject, but she decides the important thing isn't who prompted the conversation. The important thing is that they're discussing it. It's such a heartfelt and in depth conversation that if the author were to type it out word for word, it would take up three pages. With regret, it must be admitted that this author isn't generous enough to give the reader that entire conversation. It is her belief that some things are just too personal and should be kept locked away and cherished in the private life of the two fictional characters.

"You're my favorite color," the girl tells him, eventually, and she truly believes he's a color because he's the only thing on her mind.

At several points during that afternoon the girl stumbles and the boy catches her.

At one point she faints for no apparent reason except maybe so that he may catch her again. He loves rescuing her and she loves being rescued by him.

"You're so fast," she says. "You were all the way over there when I started to pass out." She points to a tree that's several yards away. The reason he was at such a distance from her is because just before she fainted, she stumbled and he caught her, got an unexpected whiff of her blood and had to snap himself behind the farthest tree possible without being too conspicuous.

"Adrenaline."

"Your heart must be pounding." She reaches up to feel his heartbeat. After several minutes with her hand pressed against his heart, the fact doesn't sneak past her that he doesn't have one.

"And you're so cold," she begins her list, "and you don't eat," she finishes her list. "Open your mouth."

He does and she looks around in there.

"Why don't you have fangs?"

He explains that real vampires don't have fangs. Their teeth are like razor blades and filled with venom. He also explains the feeding frenzy and how it's impossible to stop feeding once it's begun.

"Are you afraid?" He brings his scowl down close to her face and it's so arousing she almost can't breathe. In fact, she isn't breathing.

"No."

"Then ask me what I consume."

"Why would I ask a question I already know the answer to?"

His eyes widen. "Are you telepathic?"

The girl giggles, and it sounds like applause. The boy relaxes and backs away.

"You don't have to worry too much about your safety." He gives her a sparkle-wink that chimes. "The laws of the nature of our kind as we have lived by for centuries are easier to overcome than we think."

"I wasn't worried." She's telling the truth. She only worries about other people, never herself. To prove this she asks, "Wait, you don't kill people, do you?"

"No!" He sounds and looks insulted. "Our family only feed off the blood of animals. We deprive ourselves of the blood we love - humans - so that they may live. We consider ourselves vegetarians."

"Animals are not vegetables." As the girl says this, the author realizes she's bordering on writing about scientific facts, of which she's promised there would be none. With the next sentence she hopes to amend this.

"What's your point?"

"I don't get why you consider yourself a vegetarian. Just because you don't eat the blood of humans?"

"_Drink_," he clarifies.

"Okay, but do you drink the blood of plants?"

"Plants don't bleed."

"Then you can't be a vegetarian, can you?"

The vampire, though very intelligent with decades under his belt of attending all the best colleges in the world that money can buy him, doesn't have a retort for this because he's been written as a vegetarian vampire. That's all he knows. The author never expected her female protagonist to challenge her word choices, so the subject ends abruptly. (This section will be lucky if it isn't deleted entirely.)

The boy snaps a branch off a tree so the girl doesn't have to duck under it. The girl questions the boy on where he disappeared to those few days he went missing from school.

"I had to leave the country to keep myself from killing you. But then I thought-" he looks up at the gray sky as if in deep ponderment "-better to face a challenge than run from it. So I started following you. But don't be nervous. I was gentlemanly enough to keep my distance most of the time so as not to frighten you." He flashes a razor-sharp-toothed smile at her. She doesn't think his teeth look very scary - just like any other set of teeth that have undergone excessive bleaching.

The clouds swell and darken and release their pent up waters over the forest where the boy and girl have been comfortably dry until this moment. Now they're drenched and laughing, and if they'd already shared their first kiss, this would be an ideal moment for a rain-soaked meeting of the lips, but since they haven't kissed yet, they both run at mortal speed for the girl's truck.

The boy pretends not to like the old beat-up truck, but in actuality, he finds it more masculine than his shiny silver Volvo, and insists on driving, but only after making fun of the girl first. The girl has a hard time letting him drive because she's afraid that if she relents, she will be giving up her fair rights as a woman.

"Women can drive whenever they want!" She makes sure she proclaims this as she slides into the passenger seat. She's satisfied that she's given feminism her duty for the day. She wouldn't want the reader to get the wrong idea about her.

"Put on your seatbelt," the boy says because, left uneasy with her feminist outburst, he is compelled to tell her what to do. He's over one hundred years old, which makes him old-fashioned. He believes in oppressing the woman, but only with the best intentions, of course. "I wouldn't want you to be hurt if I roll the truck."

He takes her out to dinner where he doesn't eat or drink, and a female server is all but stroking him and falling into his lap. Even though vampires have senses that are one hundred times stronger than those of humans, this vampire has yet to notice the woman. He's too busy gazing into the veins of his girlfriend's eyelids.

There's a candle flame-dancing in the center of the table. The boy impresses his girlfriend by dousing the flame with his forefinger and thumb.

"Amazing…"

He shrugs, humbly.

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?" the female server asks the boy, followed by the thought, _Like me._

This distracts him because he would, in fact, like to eat her. Or drink her, he might remind the author.

He pictures himself biting into the server's artery and drinking until his eyes turn into rubies. He lets out an exasperated sigh.

"What's wrong?" our girl asks.

"That woman is projecting horrible images at me."

"How is she projecting images at you?"

Even though vampires never blunder, this one realizes his. "Um, she isn't."

"Wait, so you can read minds?" She blushes and bites her lip, thinking about the sorts of thoughts he might have been plucking from her brain all this time. She tries to clear her mind of everything, but can't seem to stop thinking about his penis.

He's proud of his girlfriend's intuitiveness. "I can read everyone's mind in the world, with the exception of yours."

Upon hearing this, the girl relaxes and her mind drifts off to calculus facts.

"What are you thinking about right this instant?" he asks her. "I have to know."

"Just derivatives and functions."

He laughs. "Fine, don't tell me." He touches her nose, she blushes, and he salivates.

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A/N: See you soon with Chapter 3: In Which They Go to the Meadow and Discuss the Angel

Thanks for reading! :)


	3. In Which They Go to the Meadow

Your next chapter of silliness...

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**The Sky at Dusk**

**Chapter 3: In Which They Go to the Meadow and Discuss the Angel**

Here, in the vampire's meadow of Eden there's a scissor-trimmed carpet of green, green grass, and flowers of every exotic type and color. Flowers can be found here that people thought only grew in the remotest of tropical islands. Among them are pinkish and tall ones, with centers big enough to swallow a person or vampire whole. Unafraid, the girl leans her back against one of the stems of these flowers. Sturdy as a tree trunk, it doesn't give at all. The boy thinks she looks like a forest fairy.

The boy runs faster than the fastest vampire, climbs a tree, spins around on a branch, comes back down to earth and returns to the girl. She has barely seen him move.

"You're like heroin to me," he says to her. The images of heroin addicts in her mind are scary and repulsive, so she prefers to change the subject.

"I'm just a stupid lamb," she says, sliding down the flower stem to sit upon the forest grass. She doesn't think that lambs are all that stupid, though. They're fuzzy, and much cuter than heroin addicts. Their cuteness makes them almost perfect.

The boy chuckles because she's so adorable, and he wants to say something clever about lambs and falling in love, but he can't think of anything that hasn't already been written about in books, or tattooed on women's bodies, and he prefers to remain original, not quote books.

"You're a flightless bird," he says. Apparently he doesn't have any trouble quoting songs made popular by movies adapted from books.

The girl isn't quite sure what this means, but she thinks maybe he's saying that she's being held back from her dreams, and since her most important dream is to be with him forever she bites her lip in agreement. She has no control over her flight; he has the control.

When the sun peeks its beaming round face through a cloud, the boy doesn't sparkle because the couple are under the shade of the massive flower. He pulls the monstrous flower out of the ground and throws it miles away to reveal both his strength and his sparkles simultaneously.

Far from even vampire sight, the head of the flower lands on a minivan driven by one of the nameless schoolboys, and spins it out of control. Luckily there is no girl who is rescued from a near-crushing, so Carlisle doesn't have to go into work today.

Even though he was impossibly beautiful to begin with, the sparkles make the boy impossibly-impossibly beautiful. The girl nearly screams, not because she's afraid, but because she's never been around such beauty in her life. Unsure how to handle all the perfection, she spins in circles.

"You're like diamonds. Diamonds!" The image of a draped in diamonds, pink dress donning Marilyn Monroe singing about diamonds flashes through the girl's mind. Her spinning stops. "You're my best friend."

"I know. It's all part of the killers' plan. We lure you in because you humans stupidly think we're beautiful."

He comes over to her slower than human speed and sinks down next to her in the grass. He pokes a finger at her face, and when he doesn't kill her after that, he pokes her throat. That turns out okay, too, so he decides to fingertip-caress her in every place her skin is showing from her forehead, down her cheek, over her ear, along her jaw, her throat, her collarbone, the top of her chest, and then her arms, her wrist, her hand, her fingers, and her ankles. She's wearing shoes so he can't caress her toes.

She shivers.

When he touches her, she learns what it feels like to be touched by diamonds. And while her skin doesn't sparkle, her skin knows what it _feels_ like to sparkle. There are sparkly things going on in her panties that she's afraid to talk about or admit to, but that make her want to remove all her clothing, straddle the vampire, strategically placing her breast near his lips and say, "Make my body feel like diamonds."

She can't say or do any of that, though, in a teen novel, so she just sits there with her lips parted and her eyes closed, letting out chaste and needy gasps when necessary, and blushing so deeply she can feel the heat in her shoe-covered toes.

_Maybe we can have toe-curling sex someday_, she dreams behind her closed eyes. _Off the page_. He dips his head and his nose grazes her jaw line, down her throat to her chest. She gasps and blushes into her toes. And the happenings in her panties really want this to be an erotic novel. She is begging for it deep inside, saying _please, please, please_.

"You're trembling," the boy says in a voice of water-stained taffeta.

She swallows. "Because of you." Her voice sounds like crinkling aluminum foil to her, but to the boy her voice is the sound of Purity begging him to take her virginity.

He takes a second to muse over whether she would object to Purity as a pet name.

He knows that for her safety they can never attempt sex, but he won't share this with her until he's certain she's irrevocably in love with him. If only he could read her mind.

If he could read her mind and she admitted in her brain to being irrevocably in love with him, he might discover that she's unsure how to pronounce irrevocably correctly.

Because the girl has grown the nerve to start caressing his smooth, cold, hard skin, the vampire is discovering that there's a growing appendage in his pants that also needs to get that No-Sex-Ever memo. He closes his eyes because even if he is a vampire, the feeling of her warm soft touch over his bare, bare arm is overwhelming to him.

While the vampire, the reader, and the author know with certainty that there will never be sex in this story, hope is still alive because the girl wants it so badly.

As the vampire begins to lie back, the girl starts to roll on top of him, and he has to steel himself to move her away. Just then, the sun breaks through the clouds on cue, bringing the sparkles out of him for a second time, and distracting the girl from sex, temporarily.

She watches the sparkles dance over his skin just as her fingers did only moments ago.

He's like an angel. She searches for his wings, moving behind him, looking closely, lifting his shirt.

"Where are they?"

"What?" This is his least favorite question, but he has to ask it because he can't read her mind.

"Your wings."

He doesn't know what to say at first. Her inquiry has him confounded. "Vampires don't fly." He wonders if this revelation disappoints her, and can't bring himself to meet her eyes.

She continues to search for the wings, moving her hands over his back, sure they'll bump into wings eventually.

"I don't have any," he says when she doesn't stop rubbing circles on his back looking for them.

"But you're an angel."

"No, you're an angel." He gives her a sure smile, pulling her like a feather-tipped wing into his lap.

"You are," she says.

"You are." They argue this argument back and forth well into the night. We'll never know the winner of this argument because it fades to black. It's a blackness the girl can't see through, but that doesn't matter because the boy has night-vision enough for the both of them. All she has to do is climb onto his back.

And when the author writes "climb onto his back" she means that he pulls the girl onto his back with a swift gracefulness that can only be rivaled by his dancing sister, Alice. (The author is relieved that she mentioned Alice's grace in the first chapter; this saves her from an awkward, forced mention of it now. However, when Alice's boyfriend, Jasper, uses his gift, the reader might witness an awkward forced mention, since he's one of the only vampires in their animal-blood drinking family who has yet to be introduced. Esme is another one, but sadly the mother and nurturer of their family doesn't do much but stand about unnoticed by author and reader alike.)

It's too dark for the girl and she's saying she has to go home so she doesn't make her father angry. And this time, it is possible he'll catch her if she stays out too late, because he just happened to stop home for a beer.

The vampire gracefully and swiftly pulls his girl onto his back.

"You're my wings," he says, and now perhaps we know who's won the argument.

A/N: (Okay, so sometimes the author isn't sure what will or will not be answered until it's written.)

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Real A/N: Thanks for reading!

See ya next chapter: In Which They Kiss and One of Them Says I Love You


	4. In Which They Kiss

Just poking fun at Twilight, fanfic, the writing process, and myself. :)

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**The Sky at Dusk**

**In Which They Kiss and One of Them Says I Love You**

She stands against her old, beat up, red truck as the boy readies himself to kiss her. And since the reader knows that red symbolizes the loss of innocence, the author believes there is no better backdrop for the first kiss shared between a vampire and his human.

Hands placed against the truck on either side of the girl's head, the boy's descent to her mouth is so slow the description could be a chapter itself - the way he tilts his head and she tilts hers; the way his lips part and hers part; the way her breath washes over him like a baptismal bath; the way the heartbeat he's so attuned to speeds up. The author won't interrupt here; she'll have the mysterious narrator claim that the boy is not prolonging this kiss simply for the sexual tension, but because if he moves too quickly he might kill her. However, if that isn't sexual tension, the narrator doesn't know what is. While the reader and mystical narrator are calling the author out on her lies, they fail to realize they're missing the sexual tension that has now been building within our favorite couple for fifteen minutes. The boy is still only a half an inch closer to her lips from when we last left them.

While the boy and girl make their way toward each other, the boy continually reminding the overly-enthusiastic - or frustrated - girl to stay very still, the author will take a moment to introduce another boy.

His name is Jake and is a childhood friend of our girl. He hasn't been mentioned yet because he's been unneeded. But in a few short scenes there's something intrinsic to this story he will need to do. The author promises this will not become a love triangle; Jake and the girl have a relationship similar to a brother and sister. Furthermore, nothing should be read into the fact that Jake's introduction is interrupting the vampire boy and the girl's first kiss. Hopefully the reader has forgotten this is the same author who claimed the prolonged set up for the kiss was not written to create sexual tension.

Finally the boy has reached the girl's lips. His cement lips sweep over hers so lightly she mistakes them for monarch butterfly wings and opens her eyes to be sure. When her eyes confirm it really is her boyfriend kissing her, she recloses them and keeps very still so he doesn't break the kiss to remind her.

His lips press a bit more against hers. She opens her mouth a little wider hoping for some tongue. Instead of giving her tongue, he takes her bottom parted lip in between his. So overcome by the lightness of his kiss, her lips press forward, and her fingers find the nape of his neck, sliding into his hair. She's turned their one delicate kiss into several needy kisses. The boy's hands come to her shoulders, but instead of pulling her closer, he pushes her back. His eyes are closed up tight.

"Give me a minute." His words barely fit between his breath-holding lips.

His face relaxes when he knows he's re-caged his inner-murderer. "I'm stronger than I thought."

The girl is confused because he didn't seem all that strong to her. It took him twenty minutes just to put his lips on hers, and then he had to go through a constipation phase that lasted longer than the kiss. "Did you think you would kill me?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you try it if you knew you were testing your limits?"

"I remembered something I told you earlier. My kind's natural laws of nature are easier to break than we think." The author has to agree because she's writing the story and can make anything happen she wants.

"So because of that, you no longer think you'll kill me?'

"I know I won't."

"Then kiss me again."

He does. And this time the kiss has more pressure and lasts much longer. It lasts so long that the girl passes out and the boy has to catch her and because they both love the rescue thing, they kiss again. Aside from his too cold and too hard lips, and her too warm and too soft lips, they could be any two lovers, anywhere in the world, kissing.

They could be the girl and Jasper, or the boy and Jasper. They could be the boy and Rosalie, or the boy and Carlisle. I suppose they could be the girl and Alice, too, if you're into that sort of thing. Poor Emmett, who probably loves this part of our story more than any other part, has been left out of the mix. Somewhere in his story pocket, he's throwing a tantrum that begins a food fight. He couldn't be happier.

That night, home alone, the girl throws some laundry in, does some cooking, and takes a shower to show she does regular things. With wet hair she enters her dimly lit bedroom, and is startled by her vampire.

"You came through my window?" She knows this because he left the window open, the wind sneaking in from outside turning her wet hair to ice. She closes it. "How often do you do this?"

"I told you that I followed you. What do you think I meant by that?"

"But all I do in here is sleep."

"And it's the most fascinating thing I've seen in my one-hundred-seven years. I could watch you sleep until the end of time."

"Why don't you lie with me? Your stone-hard chest can be my pillow."

He's on the bed before she even finishes her sentence. She climbs on top of her rock.

"Mmm," she says with dreamy eyes, snuggling against him, "you're like sleeping on the coldest cement."

He lies there marble-statue-still fearing every movement she makes. Her blood is screaming at him to drink it; her breath is calling to him to steal it; her heart is begging him to stop it. And most of all her body is throbbing for him to take it. He attempts to touch her arm, but pulls away, clenching his fist just in time to stop himself from crushing her bones.

In her slumber she's completely unaware of her vampire's struggle. He glances at the window wondering if he should shoot out of here.

"Stay," she says in her sleep, because the author has given the girl's subconscious the best timing.

He hears this and it sounds like raindrops against the window of a dimly lit room.

He's lost in her.

He isn't even aware of the rain. That's hitting the window. Of the dimly lit room.

The next day, they're walking through the misty forest as there's nothing much else to do in Forks.

She wants to tell him that she's irrevocably in love with him, but since she might not pronounce that word correctly, she says, "I'm unconditionally in love with you."

He smiles and kisses her.

"Don't you love me?"

"Yeah," he says, "but you already know that."

"How?"

"I told you."

"No, you didn't."

And then his perfect vampire memory reminds him that he never did tell her. In the moment he was meant to tell her, he called her a flightless bird instead.

He moves over to her in the blink of her eye, and his cold, cold hand is on her warm, warm cheek. "You are my whole life now."

She almost passes out. And when she comes all the way back to her senses it dawns on her that he didn't exactly say "I love you."

She shrugs that off, thinking that what he said must be equivalent to "I love you" for a vampire. At this moment, while they're pledging their devotion to one another, neither of them are contemplating family, babies, death, or eternity.

They're thinking about sex. One is thinking about having it. One is thinking about avoiding it.

The one who's thinking about having it begins seducing him in the only way a seventeen year old virgin can. By letting him kiss her whenever he wants.

When he starts to breathe really hard, so hard he's panting when vampires don't ever pant, she starts to wonder if vampires can even have sex at all. She isn't sure since she isn't one. She asks him if vampires can do it.

"Sure they can. They do it all the time. They turn buildings to rubble doing it."

"Oh,_ phew,_" she laughs out her relief.

"But you and I can't do it. Not together. It's too dangerous. I could kill you."

"You wouldn't kill me. You told me so."

"Not on purpose. But compared to me, you're so fragile. You're more fragile than glass. You're as fragile as_ breakaway_ glass."

She thinks he's said fragile too many times and gets irritated. "You're saying that because I'm human, I'm nothing?"

This time, in a quarter of a blink, he's in front of her touching her face. Her eyes ooze chocolate. "You're everything, my love. Everything."

He picks a dried, dead leaf up off the forest floor and holds it out to the girl. "Crush it."

She closes it in her fist and it crumbles into too many pieces to count.

"See how strong you are?" He smiles at her like he's proud of her strength, and he is. It's contagious and she smiles back, also proud. "That leaf in your hand is how fragile you are to me. To all vampires."

She thinks he's amazing for not crushing her already.

He closes the gap between them, his breath smelling like powdered sugar and melting strawberry ice cream on a hot Arizona-summer day. She licks her lips and he kisses her as much as he wants to.

Before she returns home, she picks up another dried leaf and decides she's going to handle it with care, to see how long it lasts. She takes it to bed with her and caresses its veins before she goes to sleep. It doesn't crumble or tear in the least. In the night she's afraid of rolling over on top of it, so with each movement, she jerks awake and checks on her leaf.

_My poor, super-strong, immortal, vampire boyfriend,_ she thinks, as she drifts off again.

She brings her beloved leaf everywhere with her, constantly checking on it, holding it close when the wind threatens to take it from her, opening it out to the sun when the wind dies away.

One morning she's sitting on her porch step, her leaf beside her, as she waits for her boyfriend to come over.

A different, long-haired boy arrives first. Jacob, her childhood brotherly friend walks out from between two trees. A mist that has just blown in on the wind circles his legs. He seems to come from nowhere. She runs to him and throws herself into his arms. "Jake!"

He hugs her tight in return, and doesn't crush her bones.

She smiles and relaxes.

"Is your dad home?"

He doesn't wait for her answer of "no" before running and leaping toward the house.

"No!" she yells, but it's too late. His heavy shoe has already landed on her fragile leaf on the porch step. She could just slap Jacob's face for this. She sprints to the leaf, picks it up, examines it from top to bottom, front to back, but it's okay. It's unharmed. She breathes again.

"It's like you love the leaf more than me," Jake says, and his voice sounds like a whining toddler or a Greek boy-god, depending on which team the reader's on.

Ignoring him she pets her leaf. "My baby. My poor, poor baby." Then she jumps for joy, throwing her arms in the air shouting, "Humans are stronger than vampires think!"

"Vampires?"

The girl covers her mouth, but it's too late. The word has not only been spoken, but screamed. "Umpires," she tries. "_Um_-pires."

Jake is already mid-phase. Before the girl can blush or bite her lip, Jacob's a huge, furry, growling wolf, running and leaping into the mist, away from a stupid lamb.

* * *

Thank you for reading! :)


	5. In Which They Do Baseball

Again, just me poking fun at the Twilight characters, fanfiction, myself, and the writing process. :)

* * *

**The Sky at Dusk**

** In Which They Do Baseball and Meet the Bad Guys**

In the vast vampire house, the girl looks at the boy and says, "You're so rich."

"I know."

She thinks that if this relationship lasts, which she knows it will, she's hit the jackpot.

"I have to know what you're thinking," the boy threatens.

"I've hit the jackpot."

The boy laughs. "Come on." He nudges her with his arm. "Tell me what you're really thinking. Your mind is such a mystery."

He doesn't want to hear the truth, so she lies.

"I'm thinking that you have way too much money. Way more than I have, so you better never buy me any gifts."

The boy kisses her lips. "I promise. No gifts. Ever."

Now, for the first time, the girl wishes the boy could read her mind.

In the kitchen, where all the vampires like to hang out at all times, Alice looks at our boy and sends him an image, he nods, and they drive everyone crazy with their secret language. Sometimes our girl wants to tell them to get a room, but she's afraid they just might.

Suddenly she feels less jealous.

"What happened?" our boy asks Jasper after reading his mind. He knows Jasper's worked his empath magic on our girl.

"You and Alice made her jealous. I calmed her." He has the ability to calm people or vampires. He was vampire-born with this gift.

Alice laughs a laugh that sounds like wind chimes. "Silly girl." She takes our girl's arm and pliés. "We were only discussing a family baseball game." Alice and our girl decide they're best friends. They giggle together the way only best friends can. This proves it.

"But I don't play baseball," the girl says.

"Not_ play_," our boy says, "watch. We can only play when there's thunder because we hit the balls so hard that without thunder, the crack of the bat can be heard in Oregon." He takes a moment to ponder how it's possible that they haven't once broken a bat. He shrugs the thought away figuring this must be due to some metaphor about vampire bats. "Today's sunny. We're going to go to the Seattle ballgame."

"You can't go in the sun," the girl reminds her forgetful boyfriend and his family. She rocks proudly up to her toes.

They all laugh at her naiveté.

"We can go to baseball games because we just pretend to be rabid fans and paint our skin with the team's colors."

"Yeah," Rosalie says, shaking her golden locks back, remembering how great her skin looks in blue. "And you should paint yours, too, even though you don't sparkle. So you don't look weird, and everything."

Our girl bows her head in sadness at the reminder that she doesn't sparkle. Her boyfriend lifts her face and kisses her softly on her closed lips to let her know how beautiful she is, even without sparkling skin. "Your eyes sparkle," he says, and her smile reaches her sparkling eyes.

All the vampires paint their skin first to make sure they don't run out of paint. If our girl had ever been to a Blue Man Group show, she would laugh at the vampire family and tell them in a witty way how they look. Since she has no better topographical reference, all she can think to say is: "You all look like smurfs."

"What are smurfs?" They all ask at once and the girl is filled with pride over knowing something that none of the century-old vampires know.

"They're little blue gnome people who live in a village afraid of a man who wants to eat them," Alice says, having looked into the future at the surprising failure of the Smurf Movie sequel.

Our girl is less worried about not having one upped the vampires after all, and more worried by the fact that twelve thirsty eyes are looking at her as their owners are batting around thoughts of fragile little people afraid of being eaten.

Her boyfriend throws himself in front of her, blocking his mortal from the rest of the group. After nobody attacks his girlfriend, he decides she's safe, and steps aside. When his hand comes around her waist, it isn't for protection, it's because he wants to touch her. He pretends to accidentally graze her rear end, since it's right below her hips and a move like that would be okay in a teen novel.

Sometimes he wraps his arm around her a little higher on her waist so that his hand can hold her just under her breast. He doesn't dare touch her breast, though.

If only he could understand how much she wants him, too.

.

They travel by foot to the baseball game, the girl, hair windblown, on the boy's back.

Alice freezes vampire frozen, mid-pirouette, in the forest clearing. As her toe is still pointed, resting against her knee, and her arms are raised moonlike over her head, the future-sudden appearance of other vampires invade her mind - followed by Edward's. Everyone else is wondering what's going on.

"Vampires," Alice says. "Meat eaters." She relaxes into first position.

"Maybe they won't recognize she's human because of the paint." Our boy is trying to be optimistic.

"They have noses!" Rosalie snaps.

"They'll recognize her," Alice says knowingly because she knows things. Her comment surprises the author, who forgets her own little details sometimes.

The three threatening vampires approach at top vampire speed. Our mortal girl doesn't see them until they're standing right before her and her friends. A mist blows in, surrounding and spiraling around the three new vampires, making it difficult to see them at all. All ten vampires and one human wave away at the mist until it goes out with a new wind.

"You're all blue," the maroon-eyed girl vampire with the fire-red curly hair says. Her voice sounds like lyrical squeaky pipes.

"Baseball fans," Esme says, as the author realizes this loveliest of lovely-hearted vampires hasn't had a chance to say a word yet. Time to prove to her readers that Esme really is here. And she's pretty.

Esme's voice was gentle and motherly when she spoke her two words, which gave the three other vampires pause. Evil or not, they do miss their mothers. They pause some more, trying to remember.

Until…

"You have a pet?"

"_My_ pet," our boy says, petting his mortal girlfriend's hair lovingly. The two lovers exchange a sweet smile.

The vampires with scarlet eyes bend their knees like baseball players, extend their fingers like they have claws, and hiss like housecats. The mortal girl laughs.

"We are evil!" the one with the long hair says.

"Wait," our girl says. "You _all_ have long hair."

The three long-haired, crimson-eyed vampires start touching their hair self-consciously, as the human seems less afraid because of it.

"We are good," Jasper says, but reading his mind, our boy picks up on his brother's insecurity, and nods at him.

"Yes, Jasper. You are good. All the humans you kill are simple mistakes. Nothing to worry about. These guys kill on purpose."

"You're a part of our family, son," Carlisle reassures Jasper as well. Alice pas de boureés over to her vampire mate and kisses him. He feels good now.

Our boy, shoving his girlfriend behind him, speaks up. "The one with the blond hair, James, who called my love a pet, is a tracker. He won't give up until he kills her. We should just get rid of them all now to save us the trouble of running."

"Yeah," Alice agrees.

"But wait," the evil vampire with the darkest skin says, "I wish to be good like you."

The kind vampire family believes him, and Carlisle is about to ask him to join their family when our boy interrupts it all.

"He's lying. I thought about not giving his mind a thorough search, but I did anyway."

"Yeah," Alice agrees.

The tall, stoic brother and miniature, dancing sister smile at each other. Their gifts work better than they thought.

The three evil vampires hiss like housecats. The mortal girl laughs.

Jasper projects his empath tricks on the evil ones, and calms them. Their eyes relax and small, euphoric smiles meet their lips as the always loving, always gentle, animal-blood drinking vampires rip them to shreds and then burn their parts. Jasper's really talented with his tricks. The three evil vampires are still smiling as their unattached heads burn up.

"They look happy to die," our girl notes.

Emmett jumps around the bonfire, hollering like a frat boy at a frat party. (This analogy is coming from the author; none of our characters have been to frat parties, except maybe Emmett, but he's not thinking of his own actions.)

"You don't have long hair anymore!" Rosalie says to the burning body parts, spitting her venom at them. The fire nearly explodes. She runs fingers through her own hair, feeling lucky to have it. When nobody else is looking, she kisses the ends of it. Edward and Alice laugh because they don't have to be looking to see this.

Our girl gets jealous over their secret laughter.

Jasper does his projecting.

And the world is wonderful again.

"There now," Alice's tinkling voice tinkles through our girl's ears, her delicate pale arms over the girl's fragile shoulders, "isn't that better than feeling all burned up yourself?"

Even if the reference makes absolutely no sense, as it certainly doesn't to our girl, nobody can argue with logic like that.

"It sure is," our girl says.

The eight blue-skinned people, all coupled with arms around each other because their love is beautiful and perfect in every way, continue on to the baseball game.

One of them is dancing.

None of them are thinking of the vampires that were just destroyed, especially not our girl. She isn't traumatized in the least because all she can think about is her boyfriend.

There's a smile that refuses to leave her lips, and the boy kisses it.

* * *

Thanks for reading. :)

Next up: Chapter 6 In Which They Discuss Sex


	6. In Which They Discuss Sex

Final chapter of this very serious and dramatic story. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

* * *

**The Sky at Dusk**

**Chapter 6: In Which they Discuss Sex**

In their kitchen, Alice arabesques over to her tall, bronze-haired brother.

"I can see you're afraid to have sex with your girlfriend." Her voice chimes like someone playing the triangle.

Our boy nods and pinches the bridge of his nose, to show he's distraught with what he's about to say. "Willingly becoming a monstrous murdering demon who takes innocent lives is one thing, but sex before marriage? There's no worse sin. My girl will never be pure again. And neither will I."

Alice answers him in a silent, interpretive dance which enlightens both the boy and the author on how illogical this thought process is. Sex is not so bad after all.

"But I might kill her." His voice sounds like crystals being crushed in his hand.

"You won't kill her."

His head snaps up, happily because he's happy now. His smile reaches his gold-flashing eyes to prove it. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." She laughs, though, pretty hard. "Why didn't you just ask me? I promise, killing isn't something that happens."

Her brother frowns at her. "Hurting?"

"Only in the normal virginal sense."

Our vampire boy nods and makes his decision to make love to his mortal girlfriend. Alice laughs, and when Edward searches her mind to see what's so entertaining, he comes up with nothing but smurfs la la la-ing. She's blocking him from her mind for some reason.

Our boy decides to hunt before his sexual escapade, and even though they could have the whole vampire house to themselves, our boy and girl share their first sexual encounter at the girl's house because if the threat of death isn't enough, the threat of Charlie maybe walking in on them is even better. (The author rubs her hands together in gratification of her own brilliance.)

On the girl's bed they kiss. Finally our boy opens his mouth to let her tongue in. She sighs, and feels wetness in her panties while his tongue wets hers.  
Over her clothes he kisses her down her chest, mouths her breast, and, lifting her shirt, tongues her bellybutton like a popsicle on a frying pan.

"I love you," they say to each other, his voice like a velvet pillow, hers like feather-down.

He takes her shirt off at vamp speed.

She takes his off at human speed.

He takes her pants off at vamp speed.

She takes his off at human speed.

They're the perfect compliment to each other, they both think, with contented sighs on their lips.

The vampire touches carefully and then kisses carefully his human's naked breast. "Do you like this?"

She moans her yes, and grabs for his cold, vampire-hard erection. She shivers. "Do you like this?"

He thinks he wouldn't mind if she stroked a little harder. A lot harder. But the truth is, he does like it, so he moans his yes.

Our vampire boy, who's never had sex in what feels like a million years is about to burst quite literally through his vampire-hard erection into his girlfriend's tiny, fragile, sweet, warm hand. He stops her gentle stroking, positions his hips between her legs and gets ready to make his entrance. Everything is breathy and gaspy and quivery and moany.

"You're near my center."

"Your core."

"My lady part."

"Your folds."

He kisses her sweetly, holds his breath, concentrates hard on not breaking or biting his girl, and enters. He can hear, feel, and smell his entrance. It's the sound of shredding, the best feeling of snug-cushioned heat and wetness and heavenly surroundings he's ever felt, but the smell is of blood, and even with his breath held, he can't _un_smell it. He's on the other side of the room, naked against the wall, falling to the floor in no time.

"What happened?" She perches up on her elbows, her ladyship cold and abandoned.

"You're bleeding," he says, and he could cry. He wanted this so badly. He's never been angrier with his author. How could she do this to them? Why didn't she decide to make the hymen blood different from the other blood?

Somewhere in her story pocket at the crafts services table which offers everything but animal blood, Alice is laughing.

The author is very uneasy with her own vampire boy character's awareness of her, and decides to let the mortal girl clean herself up, get rid of every last remnant of the blood, and let the two sweet, beautiful, perfect lovers make love sweetly and beautifully and perfectly until their toes are curling, the stars in the sky surround them, and the heavens open up in a chorus just for them. As they hotly and coldly pull and tug and hug and hold and kiss and lick and caress and grind, there are violins and harps and flutes and pianos and fireworks and envious angels in their bubble of love-making.

They're flying through their very own starry sky on the tails of comets.

They definitely have wings.

"You're so perfect," each lover tells the other in his and her lovely euphoric haze of post orgasmic love. And they are. Perfect.

* * *

**Chapter 6 Part II: In Which they Discuss the Change on a White Blank Page**

"Change me," our girl pleads of her boyfriend.

"I won't take your humanity away."

"Yes, you will," Alice says, coming from nowhere en pointe. "I've seen it. All the decisions haven't been made yet, so I can't see how it happens, but it does happen. You might as well do it now."

"What if I decide not to?"

Alice takes a few minutes to sashay and search this future. "Well…" she pauses her speaking, but not her sashaying. "If you decide not to change her now, three more books will be written that will take over the world. Movies will be made that will make two actors, who don't want fame, famous over night. They'll duck and cover from their fame for years as if missiles are being dropped on their heads. Fame is excruciating for them. Insane people will find sites on the internet to discuss their new passion or guilty pleasure, and they'll argue about everything, especially which boy they think is the right boy for your girlfriend to end up with. Oh, that's right. Your relationship will be threatened by a stinky werewolf." She plugs her nose as if she smells him, and she probably can.

"There will be a love triangle of sorts that most readers will think is ridiculous and forced, but they love the books anyway so the author has nothing at all to worry about, except being ridiculed by critics and sometimes her fans. There's also something going on with your stomach." She points to the girl. "But I can't see inside it. I'm blocked so that there can be a lot of scary, sitting-on-the-edge-of-your-seat suspence and the threat of imminent death. It's the kind of horror that makes you, my bronze-haired god of a brother, pull at your hair all the time and hate yourself."

She puts both hands on the sides of her head, concentrating harder but she still can't see inside the stomach. There's a lot of blood though, and her brother looks miserable. She doesn't like this option at all. "I also see feathers, broken headboards, Jane assaulting a few of us, Aro threatening the death of your girlfriend even though there's no chance that will happen since she's the protagonist in a romance novel. And the reader will learn why Rosalie is such a bitch to her. It all comes down to this moment. The power is in your hands, my bronze adonis."

Our boy turns to his girl with sadness and pain, hurt and discomfort in his eyes. "I don't want you to maybe fall in love with a wolf." He feels like crying but he can't.

"I don't want to, either." And she's crying because she can.

"Don't cry." He touches the single tear that's making it's way down to her chin and it turns to ice. She brings her own fingers up to it until it melts and then she wipes it away.

"We can't trust this author," he says.

"I know."

"She made us both think the wolf boy was only your brother."

"He is like a brother." Her one single tear hasn't stopped.

"But I'd like to break a headboard."

"We'll both break headboards." She bites her lip and blushes.

The boy smiles.

"Change me," she whimpers. She sobs and wails and touches his chest where his cold, dead heart doesn't beat. "Make me like you." She kisses his chest, her very own stone wall of comfort, and he's done for.

Alice has disappeared into her story pocket to let our lovers have their bubble back.

The boy agrees to change his human, realizing there was never any other choice. "I'll love you for eternity."

"I'll love you for eternity, too."

He leans toward her.

"Wait!"

He stops.

"Are you sure you'll still love me when I'm no longer warm, you can't hear the sound of my heart, don't smell the call of my blood, and I'm able-bodied instead of rescue-me-clumsy? Because even though I'm willing to give up my humanity and my family..." the author takes a moment to remember the girl does actually have family, and then she shrugs, "... I'm still not sure our love isn't contrived and flat and superficial."

"I'll love you for an eternal amount of eternities."

And with that, she believes him like she believes there are stars in the sky, moss on the trees, and mist in the wind.

He kisses her lips carefully, bends her head back to arch her glorious, smooth, pale neck, runs his nose down her throat, and kisses his favorite spot to bite into. He's never given a kiss before biting; he savors the moment, prolonging the kiss against warm flesh. Licking his lips, venom spilling forth like drool, he hopes he's strong enough to stop. He says a little hopeful prayer in case he believes in God. Somewhere, somehow he reads Alice's mind who tells him he is strong enough.

He opens his mouth to sink his teeth in.

"I'm Bella, by the way."

"I'm Edward."

Edward bites.

Bella gasps.

Dusk takes over the sky as the story ends so that the title makes literal sense, and all our vampires, even their newest addition, live many alternate lives immortally ever after.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, so just a _tad_ bit of sarcasm there. And I really do love Edward and Bella, and Rob and Kristen are great, and if it weren't for Stephenie Meyer, this wouldn't be here and neither would I, and something in my life would be sorely missing. And also, I'm a feminist. :)

Thanks for reading!


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